


Playing With Fire

by Master_Reaver



Category: Fable (Video Games), Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Violence, some 4th wall breaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2018-12-25 03:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12027030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Master_Reaver/pseuds/Master_Reaver
Summary: Several years have passed since the Hero of Brightwall has overthrown his brother: Reaver is less than pleased when he discovers that someone is vandalizing his factories. Furthermore, he is furious that this someone is unusually hard to get rid of. In a manner entirely unlike him, Reaver has no choice but to ask for help... From the ruler of Albion.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short-ish fic about Reaver, a new opponent and a Hero who sits somewhere in the middle on the moral alignment. No shipping in this fic unless you squint. I tried to keep up the general spirit and feeling of the Fable games... Yeah, I tried.

With slow strides Reaver stepped over the remains of what not long ago had been one of his factories, his cane clicking on the charred ground in a matching rhythm. The stench of fire hung in the air and a single trail of smoke rose from a nearby pile of torched metal. His gaze wandered over the blackened bricks and balks, the seared glass of the windows lying around his feet in shatters. He kicked a burnt piece of fabric with his boot; the singed curtain that once proudly bore the emblem of ‘Reaver Industries’ was now nothing more than a dirty rag. He pressed his lips together in irritation. When his factory in Fogbourne had been destroyed just last month, he thought it would have been the doing of rebelling local residents. Now, he was sure he had an opposition against his very person on his hands, an opposition that hadn’t solely targeted one specific branch of his industries.

It had been a long time since anyone had messed with his affairs. A certain woman who had, for example, led the Bowerstone resistance several years ago came to his mind immediately. Page. But even though she’d been holding a permanent grudge against Reaver and his industries, he quickly concluded this was definitely not her doing since it wasn’t her manner to resort to such extremely insolent and impersonal methods. Besides, Page had traveled up north a little over five years ago to aide farmers in a revolution. Reaver was confident she hadn’t returned yet since his sources would let him know at once. She had left with all her closest associates -including that handsome blond bloke-, so who had burnt down his factory?

Reaver made his way around the highest wall that was still standing, towering over the burnt debris. A message in bright red had been painted hurriedly over its backside, reading:

  


FREE ALBION FROM REAVER'S HANDS 

  


This had to be the work of someone he hadn’t met before, Reaver decided, someone unaffiliated with Page. Someone who clearly underestimated what he was capable of. He bent down and picked up a flat brick just beneath the wall. Two initials had been painted on it in the same shade of red as the phrase on the wall. Reaver frowned at it, then threw it over his shoulder. Whoever “A.W.“ was, they would get what was coming to them, he’d make sure. With a bitter smirk he turned his back to the ruins and returned the way he’d come from.


	2. Chapter 2

In a seemingly abandoned house in the middle of Gloomwick, Alice Whitlock crossed out one of the cog symbols on the map spread out in front of her.  
“Alright”, she straightened up with both hands on her hips and looked around the room, her eyes roaming over the small crowd. “Today’s mission was a complete success. Good job, every single one of you.”  
Excited cheering filled the room. “I suggest we will target the next factory in a fortnight.”  
  
“Which one of them is next?” Jack, the young man standing to her left, asked. He had been the first to join Alice in her fight against the Reaver Industries and was sort of her right hand. Jack Wilson was a strong fighter and not short of wit. Two years ago, he himself had been forced to start as a worker at the metal factory near his home in Bowerstone. He had slaved sixteen hours a day non-stop and wouldn’t even get paid for it after Reaver had decided to completely cut everyone’s wages. Which, of course, accumulated to a greater profit for Reaver, but god damn it, how were the labourers expected to pay their life’s expenses?  
One foggy evening he’d started talking to Alice in the Riveter’s Rest. She had immediately stood out to him with her appearance; sitting hunched over a table in her dark cloak with the hood up and eyeing the drinking folks, it was obvious she was neither a factory worker nor serving at the nearby whorehouse. They started talking and Jack quickly realized that they had something fundamental in common - their hatred for Reaver Industries. It didn’t take him long to agree to support the then eighteen year old in her plans and after three months, their faction had grown to a respectable size. Eventually, they’d decided they could actually stand a chance and had started planning attacks to signal Reaver that they meant business. They always met up in Gloomwick, Alice’s home and one of the small villages that had not yet had to fear the destructive powers of Reaver’s antics. An old, derelict house there served as their secret meet-up location.  
  
“In my opinion we should target the mine in Bower Lake.” Alice’s eyebrows twisted into a frown. “What a shame. The last lake in Central Albion. Gone. For some bloody minerals”, she hissed. Sure, the ultimate decision had been the King’s, but without Reaver Industries, it wouldn’t even have come to that damned choice… At least their ruler hadn’t agreed on letting Mourningwood get flooded by Bowerstone’s sewage. But considering all the other factories and mines, that was a small consolation.  
  
Alice took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Bower Lake is next. But we will gather here again in one week’s time to make preparations. For now I want you all to go home and get rest, you need it.” Alice took a step back and signaled that the meeting was over.  
  
One after the other, the people left in an orderly fashion. Jack was the only one to stay behind. “What do you think Reaver is going to do?” The blond man asked and leaned against the door frame.  
Alice glanced at him as she packed away the map. “Quiver in fear, I hope.”  
Jack scoffed and rolled his eyes.  
With a shrug, Alice turned toward him. “I’m not sure. Frankly, Reaver is unpredictable. He is not intimidated easily, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t stand up to him.”  
“…You have a plan.” Jack smirked and crossed his arms.  
Alice nodded. “I will make sure that he knows we’re serious. In a language he speaks.” She said and headed past Jack to her room. “He’s noticed us - it’s time to confront him.”


	3. Chapter 3

It had been two weeks since the last attack that Reaver was once again called to the destruction site of one of the branches of his industries.  
The night before one of his mines had burnt down. This time, there was no message, but Reaver had found another brick with the same initials on it. And just like every other one, this site too had been abandoned. After the last incident he had hired several guards at all locations as precaution, but now there were no traces left of any of them. Not even their bodies. 

Reaver gritted his teeth. Whoever had done this, _whoever_ had had the audacity to- He shook his head and gripped his cane tighter. ‘Whoever’ had certainly proved to be an annoyance, but soon enough Reaver would find out who was responsible and then they would pay dearly. He was playing through the possibilities of getting his revenge, when all of a sudden, a white light flashed behind him. He turned around quickly, his coat swinging along with the movement.

Reaver raised his eyebrows, shifting his weight onto his cane he scrutinized the darkly clad figure head to toe. He quickly spotted the hilts of daggers she wore strapped to her back, and made a mental note of it.  
“Good morning, Reaver”, Alice greeted him with a cold voice as she put down her hood, his eyes darting up to her face. “We finally meet in person.”

The corners of Reaver's mouth curled into a grin. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” 

“Alice Whitlock”, she introduced herself concisely. “I believe we have some business to talk about.”

“A.W., mhm… So you are the pyromaniacal nuisance that’s been sabotaging me.” 

“I and numerous others. We have good reason to rebel against you, Reaver: Your industries are a parasite to Albion.” 

“Parasite…” Reaver chuckled. “Not even your insults are original.” 

Alice ignored him. “Either you close up your factories yourself, or we will do it for you. Then you will be next if you don’t cooperate.” 

Reaver cocked his head to the left. “Oh, is… Is that a threat?” 

“See it as an ultimatum, Reaver. Albion has only suffered since you’ve built here. I can’t believe no one before me has revolted against you.” 

Reaver sneered at her. “Oh they have, several of them. But they’ve all failed _terribly_.” He shook his head slowly and started circling her slowly, not taking his eyes off Alice. 

“We won’t, I promise you.” 

Reaver lifted his arms, gesturing at their surroundings. “The people of Albion have jobs. They are useful to their city. What more do you want? Our economy has only improved since selling resources overseas. Albion is thriving in the age of industry, darlin’, I’m sorry you fail to see that.” 

Alice narrowed her eyes, her hands formed fists. “They’re all suffering under their workload and the pressure you put on them. For heaven’s sakes, you don’t even pay them! But it’s not just the people, Reaver. You also destroyed all nature we had left. When was the last time you saw a clear sky over Bowerstone? The chimneys of your factories are constantly spewing black exhaust, day for day. The smoke cloud is hanging over all our heads like a threat; like the sword of Damocles of suffocation. You’ve drained lakes and hollowed out mountains just to harvest the little our soil held. You-”

Reaver rolled his eyes and faked a yawn. “You must excuse me, but your little monologue is starting to get tiresome. I do admit I would have preferred we’d met under different circumstances, but I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave now.” He pulled out his gun and cocked it while aiming at the woman.

“One day, Reaver.” Alice didn’t bat an eye when she stepped closer. “You’ve got one day, then you’re either gone and your factories closed up or we will destroy everything, including you.”  
“Enough talk”, Reaver said sharply and pulled the trigger. 

Another bright flash of light flared up and Alice re-appeared one foot to her left. The Dragonstomper’s bullet hissed through the air -and only air- until it lodged itself in the remains of a copper tube.  
Reaver stared at it in disbelief. He never missed. He was the best marksman there was. He was _Reaver_.

“You-” He clenched his teeth, cocked his gun, aimed and fired again. 

Another light and Alice vanished, then appeared two feet to her right. “It’s no use, Reaver.” 

With a huff, and his irritation visibly increasing, Reaver shot at her wildly, but she managed to dodge every bullet his enchanted gun held. 

Reaver took a step back and quickly stowed away his firearm. He gripped the cane with both hands, but before he had time to pull it apart and reveal the blade hidden within, Alice appeared right in front of him. She raised her right hand which tightly gripped one of her trademark daggers and dragged its tip along Reaver’s throat. A slight shiver went down his spine as the sharp metal scraped over his skin.

“One day, Reaver.” She repeated, then with another bright flash she was gone. 

With a shaky breath and an angry growl, Reaver threw his cane to the ground. He regretted it instantly and picked it up again, rapidly dusting the ash off it. With one last glance over the remains he turned to leave, a bitter expression on his face.

~~~

Back at his mansion, Reaver sat in his tall chair in the parlour and frowned at the wall above the fireplace. The hand which usually clasped the top of his cane now tapped away in an impatient rhythm on the armrest. His mind was racing trying to find a different way to kill Alice. He first thought about setting Balverines on her, perhaps an army of Hollow Men… But he was convinced that they were no match against her, no matter their number.

“Master Reaver?” A quiet voice cut through his train of thought. A lean man had entered the room and carefully approached the chair. He hung his head with his hands behind his back.

“Not now”, Reaver gnarled.

“But, Master, it’s of high importance, the-”

Reaver had drawn his weapon in a split second, stretched out his arm and pressed the muzzle of his gun right below the man’s chin.

“I’m not in a good mood. Do not test me.” He said calmly without breaking his stare.

“Y-yes, Master Reaver.” The man turned and left hastily.

Reaver lowered his hand and examined his treasured firearm. The problem was not that Alice couldn’t be shot, it was that she could evade the bullet within the fraction of a second. She was not impossible to kill, she just made it difficult to hit. He somehow needed a way to restrain her, limit her ability to move, keep her in one place.

The knuckles of Reaver’s hand that was clutching the gun turned white with strain.

He’d had an idea -no a fail-safe solution even-, stored in the back of his mind since he first saw her using teleportation as defense mechanism. Admittedly, he’d been hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this, that he’d find another way, but with every minute it became clearer that he wouldn’t.

First thing next morning he would make his way to Bowerstone castle.


	4. Chapter 4

“Your Majesty”, Hobson addressed the King, “Reaver is waiting for you in the throne room regarding a more personal affair.” 

The King waited until Hobson had listed all his daily duties, threw a look to his sleeping dog in the corner, then headed where his visitor was waiting.

He entered the room that seemed incredibly empty without the usual masses of people inside. Reaver was standing alone in the middle.  
The hero nodded his head to the guards at the door and they left.

“Reaver”, he acknowledged the other man with scepticism as he walked up to him.  
“Your Majesty”, Reaver bowed before him exaggeratedly.

The King of Albion sighed. “What do you want? I thought you were busy overseeing the construction of the-” He waved his hand towards the industrial district of Bowerstone.  
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but several of my factories have been vandalized in an act of opposition to industrialization. The culprit has proven to be… More than bothersome and if I didn’t truly need to I would never-”

“You’re asking for my help?” 

“I’m asking to _borrow_ your magic powers. I’ve always believed in fighting fire with fire.”

The hero studied Reaver’s face closely. “Why would I help you? If you recall, I’m not exactly an admirer of your smoldering brick dumps, either.”

“Your Majesty, Albion has gained a secure economic future with the trades we’ve established. We need the resources we’re mining, they’re important materials for products we manufacture that facilitate our everyday life. In the last two years alone our unemployment rate has reduced close to fifteen measly percent, everyone has work. Do you want to take away the single stable thing in your faithful subjects’ lives? They have always been able to count on you, are you going to let them down now?”

The King hesitated. Should he really help Reaver?  
Perhaps the other man was right; the factories had definitely brought an upswing to Albion’s economy, if they just suddenly ceased production now, the country would fall into depression, he was sure. Sacrificing some of their environment was simply necessary for a better future… And it filled the treasury.

The hero eventually agreed to assist.  
“It would be best if we got going, she didn’t exactly leave me much time.” 

“She?” 

“Alice Whit-, White-,… Something.” Reaver waved his gloved hand dismissively as he started walking down the hall. The King followed swiftly. “I had a suspicion that she was from Mourningwood, you know, given her motive. But judging from her accent I believe she’s from further up North. Likely Birchport or Gloomwick.”

“How are we gonna get there?” The hero asked and Reaver stopped to turn to him.

“Can’t you teleport with that- that… Shiny Hero thing you have?”

“The guild seal? Well, yes, but it can only bring me back to places I’ve been before. And I’m afraid I’ve never been to Birchport nor Gloomwick.”  
Reaver frowned at him. “Anywhere close at least? Buckthorn Hill? Bleak Heights?”

“Yes, the latter.” 

Reaver spread his arms theatrically and smirked. “Splendid. Let’s go.”  
The other man held out his hand towards him and Reaver gripped it tightly, with one eyebrow raised high.

A blue flash appeared and wrapped them in blinding light. A second later they both found themselves standing on a wide meadow on top of a hill, framed by dark woods all around. 

“Oh!” Reaver exclaimed and quickly let go of the other’s hand to cover his mouth with it.  
“Yeah, took me a while to get accustomed to.” The hero remarked. He waited until Reaver faced him. He seemed paler than usual.

“You could’ve warned me.” Reaver reproached.  
“I could have, yes.” The hero remarked and turned to his right, walking up to the dirt trail. Reaver followed him quickly.  
With swift strides, the two men made their way towards the village up north.

~~~

Birchport consisted of no more than a handful of houses and a few stores. It was very rural and the houses simple brick buildings. Up here, the air was clean and it was still possible to see the blue sky above the roofs. Suddenly, doubts invaded the Hero’s mind. Had he made the right choice in siding with Reaver? Alice just wanted to turn Albion back to how it once was, right? Seeing Birshport it didn't seem like that bad of a thing…

It didn’t take long for them to search through the shops and ask around for Alice. They were done within two hours.

Reaver shook his head as he approached the hero standing below the tree in the middle of the village. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing! I can’t believe it!” 

“They didn’t leave any clues behind at the factories?” The King theorized.

“Even if they did, it would be too late to retrieve them since the factories are already being rebuilt. I didn’t waste any time, of course.” 

“Of course.” The hero mumbled under his breath.

“I think we should head up to Gloomwick. Perhaps we’ll find her there.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you look at that, two chapters in one update!

The way from Birchport to Gloomwick lead through the thick woods in a highly contorted path. 

“So, are you going to tell me more about Alice?” The hero finally broke the silence that accompanied the steady scrunching of gravel under their boots.  
“Why?” Reaver asked with bitterness in his voice.  
“Well, if you want me to fight her, I need to know more than only her name.” 

Reaver hesitated before responding. “She is agile. With the help of willpower she either teleports or moves with inhumane speed - I’m not completely positive which one it is.”  
The hero nodded. “Too fast, even for your aim.” 

Reaver kept quiet.

“Well, I have an idea how to take her out.” The King looked down at his trusted magic gloves.  
“You’d better, that’s why I asked you.” 

They reached a clearing at the top of a small hill. The Hero was just about to comment on the peacefulness of the woods, when he suddenly spotted the unmistakable silhouette of a balverine sneaking through the covert. He stopped and by reflex stretched out his arm in front of Reaver protectively. 

“What is it?” The other man asked, but before he’d finished his sentence, a massive hairy creature fell down from above and landed centimeters behind him. 

It raised his claws, but the hero had already drawn his sword and sliced at it mercilessly. Reaver immediately drew his gun, taking a few steps backwards. Both men’s adrenaline levels peaked high at the sudden ambush.

Another balverine attacked them straight on. Reaver shot at it, but it leaped upward and disappeared completely until it quickly dropped down again in close vicinity. Another shot. It was definitely hit, but the shot didn’t seem to hurt it at all. Reaver cursed unintelligibly through clenched teeth as he fired bullet after bullet into the monster. 

The hero had slain the first one and now stabbed at the other which was focused on Reaver. Only a second later two other balverines leaped at them and more kept appearing, dropping down from seemingly nowhere. They circled the two men who were now standing back to back, facing the creatures who closed in threateningly, hissing and growling.

“There’s too many of them.” Reaver whispered, quickly moving the revolver between the balverines.

The hero waved his sword trying to keep the monsters at a distance, but it was just a matter of time for them to come lunging at the men all at once. He decided that it was not worth it and reached for Reaver’s arm. 

The second the balverines leaped at them, they vanished from their spot.

 

When the light subsided, they were back on the wide meadow of Bleak Heights. Taking deep breaths in relief, they stashed away their weapons. 

“That was close.” The King commented and ran his hand through his hair.  
“Good call… _Hero_ ”, Reaver smirked at the other, then contorted his face at the nausea.

The King eyed the other sceptically. 

“I believe there’s another path to Gloomwick.” He shook it off and guided the way.

The trail wound up- and downhill but never lead into the forest. They arrived in Birchport’s neighbouring village an hour later with thankfully no other creatures having gotten in their way.

 

They split up again to scour Gloomwick, but it didn’t seem to be a more successful search than the last. 

The hero figured that there had to be someone in the local tavern who’d at least heard of her. He entered and looked around. He approached two men sitting at the bar each with a beer jug in their hands.   
“Excuse me, do any of you know a woman named Alice? Alice Whitlock?” 

Both of the villagers declined and the King turned around. He spotted a farmer sitting alone at a table in the back. He approached him and asked again for Alice. 

The man eyed him up and down. “Alice? Last I heard she set up an opposition against Reaver.”

“I am aware, but where is she? Do you know where her faction’s located?” 

With a shake of his head, the farmer denied.   
“Thank you anyway.” 

After asking the other five people in the tavern with similar results, he exited it. Reaver was walking towards him from the other side of the village. 

“Have you had any luck?” 

“No, have you?”

Reaver shrugged. “I think two of the people I’ve talked to were lying about not knowing her. In fact, I’m convinced they- Are you even listening to me?” 

The King nodded slowly, but his eyes were clearly focused on something behind Reaver. The other was just about to turn around when the hero held him back. “No, wait.”

“What is it? Tell me.” Reaver demanded impatiently.

“I’ve felt like being watched since we arrived. I think I was right. There’s someone crouching behind the pawn shop looking straight at us.”

“Well”, Reaver smirked and pointed the way with his cane, “I suggest we pay the fellow a visit by taking the way around the blacksmiths.”

They both headed to the forge. Once they were out of sight, they creeped quickly but quietly along the adjacent buildings until they’d reached the back of the pawn shop. 

The King leaned around the corner and stepped closer to the man who was kneeling behind a box almost twisting his neck trying to spot his targets who had suddenly disappeared. He drew his revolver and cocked it. The blond man gasped as he heard the noise and froze.

“Turn around, slowly.” The King ordered in his deep voice while Reaver slowly walked closer. “Who are you? Why are you spying on us?” He asked and used his cane to lift up the man’s head.

As the young man was kneeling in front of them, Reaver spotted an all too well known symbol on his overall. He frowned in confusion. “You’re working for _me_.” 

“Why were you watching us?” The hero asked and packed away his gun, crossing his arms instead.

“W-well, word was in town, that- that you were visiting here. R-Reaver, Master, it- it’s an honour to meet you in person, it is.” He insisted nervously. “Oh and- and Your Majesty, of course!” 

“We’re looking for someone called Alice Whitlock, do you know where she is?”   
The man shook his head. “No, sir, never heard of ‘er.” 

Reaver narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.” He drew his gun and pointed it at the worker on the ground in front of him. “You know something, I can tell.” He cocked the firearm as a threat.

“Reaver”, the King warned him and put his hand on the other’s outstretched arm.

“Come on, tell us what you know.” He jerked the cane and lifted the worker’s head higher.

“S-sir I wasn’t lying”, the blond man stuttered. “I- I don’t know ‘er. B-but- there’s a- I’ve-”

“Spit it out already”, Reaver snarled. 

“It’s- it’s said that Alice has ‘er headquarters set up deep within Crystal Ice Cave. But I- I don’t know if it’s true, it’s just a rumor, Master Reaver, sir.” His entire body was shaking and he couldn’t take his eyes from the barrel that was pointed at him.

The King enforced his grip on Reaver’s arm and the other finally lowered his weapon, securing it and stowing it away. Then, he also sat his cane back on the ground. The worker took an audible breath of relief. 

“You know, something is still bothering me… There’s no factory in Gloomwick, what are you doing here?” Reaver asked.

The man, still on his knees, shook his head. “I’m from Bowerstone. I just- I’m here to get medicine for my wife, sir, she’s been very sick.” 

“Hm”, Reaver acknowledged. He knew Gloomwick was well known for its herbal remedies. “I was already wondering why you, a worker, wasn’t… Well, how do I put it… Working.”  
“I will be back at work tomorrow, sir, I promise.” 

Reaver nodded once and turned around. “We should get going.” He started walking around the building.

“Thank you.” The King commented with a smile and helped the worker up to his feet. “Are you alright?” 

“Y-yes, thank you, Your Majesty, sir.” 

The King turned and followed his companion. 

He didn’t see Jack Wilson crossing his arms and smirking to himself as he watched the others leave.


	6. Chapter 6

The King had teleported them both to Mistpeak Valley. He’d never been to Crystal Ice Cave, but knew it was located close to the Chillbreath Caverns up in the mountains.   
They found the entrance to the cave quicker than they’d expected. But just when they’d thought they’d made it, a spine-chilling howl sounded from the woods to their left. The hero brandished his sword and got ready in a firm stance. The first wolf charged straight at him and he beheaded it in a swift motion. Reaver fired his Dragonstomper at the next wolf approaching. 

The hero slashed at the third wolf with all his skill. Unlike the balverines, the wolves soon succumbed to their injuries and the fight was over.

“Don’t get me wrong, I value firing practice with live targets, but not being able to walk anywhere without an interruption… I don’t know how you do it day in, day out”, Reaver commented while stowing away the firearm.  
The King shrugged. “You’ve got to proof your heroism somehow”, he replied sarcastically, then guided the way inside the cave.

The sudden drop in temperature as they entered the mountain caused both men to shiver. “When I got up this morning, this wasn’t what I had planned for today”, Reaver muttered grumpily.   
The soon encountered a fork in their path. 

“Which way?”   
The hero peeked down both trails. “Neither seems to be a dead end. We’ll want to check out both.”   
“At the same time?”   
“No, we’re not going to split up, we don’t know what’s waiting for us.”   
Reaver smirked. “Well, that is alright with me.” He tipped his cane to the right, then the left and then to the right again. “That way first.” 

They walked down the path that steered downhill further into the cave. Small torches lit up the way. But that was all they were good for - light; no warmth came from their tiny flames. The farther the men walked into the mountain, the colder it got. They walked for several minutes until they found a chest in the middle of the trail. But, unfortunately, there was a wall behind it. 

“A dead end after all.” Reaver sighed. He waited until the hero had searched the chest, then they made their way back to the fork from before.  
“Only one way to go.” 

The path on the left lead them uphill. Here, the torches were distributed scarcely and it was quite dark. The darkness lasted long, Reaver and the King felt like they walked the frozen ground for miles.  
It got continuously colder every minute. 

“Hold on”, the Hero said and lifted his right hand with the palm facing upwards. He quickly formed a fist and when he opened it again, his hand was engulfed by flames.   
“Hey!”, Reaver exclaimed and took a step back, holding up both his hands defensively. “Enough that I have to go adventuring with you in dirty caves; I do not want a scorched coat. It’s probably worth about the same as your choice of residence.” 

The hero sighed and dropped his hand after the flames had vanished. He knew there was no point in arguing with Reaver about this, no matter how cold and dark the caverns would get.

Eventually, the way they were on cleared up into the heart of the cave. It resembled a huge chamber with stone pillars supporting the ceiling riddled with icicles. Both men standing at the top of the plateau stared in amazement, letting their gazes wander over the frozen den. There was nothing else visible other than rocky ground and lots of ice. The entire centre of the cave was illuminated by strange, blue-ish light that seemed to come from nowhere specific. Up here, it was so cold that their breath formed small clouds in front of their faces.

Eventually, Reaver broke the silence by clearing his throat. “We really should get going.”  
But the other man didn’t move. “Reaver, I don’t think we can be down here much longer without freezing to death.” The King said with his teeth chattering.

“Bastard!” The expletive echoed from the frozen walls accompanied by a banging sound.  
Startled, the hero quickly turned around.

Reaver, seething with anger, had balled his gloved hands into fists. He’d forcefully smashed his cane against the icy wall. He was breathing shallowly, his teeth clenched shut.   
The King didn’t dare to open his mouth. But when Reaver’s squinting eyes shot towards him, he had to ask. “What- what’s wrong?” 

Reaver averted his gaze and took a deep breath. “Obviously, that rat sent us on the wrong track.” He growled. “There’s no headquarters here; he made us waste our goddamn time.”   
In hindsight it was so obvious, the King felt ashamed to not have seen through it. 

“What now? That was our only clue, even if it was wrong.” The hero rubbed his arms in an attempt to regain some warmth.

Reaver had lowered his head, his eyes shot up to look at the other man, glistening dangerously. “That worker is dead meat. But he’s secondary. We need to check up on my factories. Now.” 

He set his cane back on the ground and held his hand out for the hero to grab. In an instant, they were gone from the icy confinement and reappeared in Bowerstone Industrial.


	7. Chapter 7

Reaver supported himself on the wall next to him. Teleportation was still nauseating to him, but now it added to the sudden warmth engulfing him. 

“Is this ever going to get easier?” He grimaced as he pushed himself off the wall.

“With practice”, the hero said and headed towards the big factory. 

They hadn’t noticed while in the cave, but they’d spent quite some time searching through the freezing cavern and now the sun was already setting. 

The huge brick building still stood proud as ever in the middle of the district. When the workers recognized who was stopping by, their working speed suddenly tripled.

“Good day, sir. Your Majesty”, all of them greeted the two men. 

“Go back to work”, Reaver barked. He didn’t have time for this. He stretched out his hand to the King. “Duskborough is next.” 

They materialized in front of the well of Duskborough. “That way.” Reaver headed left and the hero followed suit. After a sharp turn past the huge luxurious houses framing the main road, Reaver stopped abruptly. 

His factory was still standing, but it had been vandalized. The windows were smashed in, the main gate had been ripped out of its hinges and there was paint smeared all over the walls. Not one worker or guard and neither Alice nor any of her followers could be seen.

The hero half expected Reaver to throw his top hat onto the ground in a rage, but the other just stepped up to the building, seemingly calm.

He lifted his cane and with the back end touched the red daub. He signed for the other to come closer.

“The paint is still wet, they can’t have gone far.” There was a noise inside the defaced construction. “Or anywhere at all.” 

The hero peeked through the broken window. It was dark inside and he couldn’t make out a single shape.

“Are you ready?” Reaver asked him while checking his revolver. 

The King stared at his gloved hands front and back to make sure he wore the right ones, then confirmed.

“Be my guest.” Reaver pointed towards the entrance.

The hero entered and guided himself along the wall to his left. His eyes adjusted quickly to the gloominess and soon he recognized balks, broken boxes, destroyed machinery and… Scuttering shadows.  
His eyes darted towards Reaver who was walking straight down the middle towards the centre of the room.

“Alice”, he called out and stretched his arms in the air dramatically. “I have arrived.” 

A dark figure emerged from the shadows and stopped once cloaked in the light falling in through a broken window. Reaver lowered his arms and smirked, slowly drawing his firearm and readying it.  
“I see you chose to settle this the hard way.” 

Reaver rolled his eyes theatrically and gestured with his revolver. “Whatever happened to ‘hello’?” 

“You know I prefer to go straight to business.” She shook her hooded head. “You could’ve come out of this so easily…” A bright blue flash flared up and she was gone. Suddenly, several other shadows closed in. When the light fell on them, Reaver recognized most of them as workers and simple villagers. Some of them carried tools with them.

“Little bit of help here?” He called to the hero. 

The King approached quickly. “Reaver, we can’t kill them. They’re just people. People of Albion.” 

“Well, Your Majesty, if we don’t kill them, they’re going to vandalize more of my property.” 

“And kill you, don’t forget that.” A familiar voice added from behind them.

Reaver turned around and saw a young, blond man approaching, wielding a metal pipe. Alice was walking closely behind him. “Oh, how sweet. The rat.” He swayed the hand with his gun and eventually pointed it straight at Jack. “By the way…” He cocked his head to the side. “How’s your sick wife doing?” 

Jack coldly glared at Reaver. “She’s been dead for over a year.”

“My condolences.” Reaver yawned.

Alice slipped past Jack and addressed the King. “Your Majesty, my name is Alice Whitlock. I know you hold Albion dear, and we appreciate everything good you’ve done for it. But now, we need your help. Reaver Industries is polluting our air, the mines are robbing the nature of minerals and disturbing its balance. The people have to work under inhumane conditions. We can’t let Reaver get away with all this.” 

“Yes, yes, you don’t like me, we’ve been there. Can we get on with this?” 

Alice’s eyes darted to Reaver, then back to the hero. “Please, Your Majesty, side with us. For Albion.” 

“You’re worse than that revolution hippie whatsername… Page?”, Reaver grumbled.

The hero stood facing an important choice. He could yet change sides… 

But no, he’d made up his mind and he’d sided with Reaver, that’s where he’d stay.

The King took a step closer to Reaver whose mouth formed a devious grin. “I can’t. This country needs the economical stability.” 

“Well, we’re not going to back down.” Jack took a threatening step closer. “Isn’t that right?” 

“Yeah!” The other workers screamed in unison, fists shooting up in the air.

Reaver cocked the gun and fired it at Jack. Alice reacted quickly, grabbed her loyal follower and teleported a foot to their right. 

The bullet sailed through the air and only hit a wooden crate.

Annoyed, Reaver stretched out his arm at them and turned to the King. “See what I mean?” 

On an unspoken command, Alice’s followers attacked the two men standing in the middle.

The hero formed fists with his hands and bright orbs began glowing around his gloves. He released the magic charge and a fiery shock wave rippled through the air, striking all the opponents standing in a range of nine feet around him. Reaver shot and hit several of the paralyzed, burning workers. When the electricity subsided, their charred skeletons collapsed onto the ground. Jack came running towards them, threateningly brandishing the pipe.

The hero conjured another wave, but this time bundled the energy and sent it all towards Jack who dropped his metal pipe to the floor. Then he aimed another stream of energy towards Alice who came charging at him with both daggers in her hands. Reaver had already taken out most of the workers with the revolver. 

When he saw Jack incapacitated by the electric shock, he threw his cane to the side and instead reached for the sword on the hero’s back. He shoved it deep into his enemy’s chest. Reaver savored the moment, thoroughly enjoying the punishment for the deception, then with a smirk watched the body slump together as he withdrew the bloodied blade. 

Alice teleported away, but couldn’t escape the powerful magic wave. Her teleportation range was too limited. Weakened by the fire and electricity, she sank to her knees. When she came around from the shock, she recognized her friend lying next to her. “Jack? Jack!” She shook him, but he didn’t move. 

She jumped to her feet with an angry growl. Gripping the daggers tightly, Alice teleported quickly behind Reaver. But he was warned by the blue glow and turned around in just the right moment. He lifted the sword and stepped back, fending off every strike she attempted. The blades hit each other with loud clangs. Behind her target, she saw the last of her followers dropping dead and the hero turning her attention toward her. He charged, she teleported. 

Alice reappeared behind the King and raised her knife high, but the hero had already cast the spell. She froze as the painful waves shook her from head to toe. Reaver aimed his revolver and pulled the trigger. This time, she was unable to dodge it. The bullet shot straight into her skull and lodged itself in her brain. 

With a triumphant grin, Reaver blew the faint trail of smoke rising from the muzzle. 

The hero raised an eyebrow and stretched out his hand. “I believe you have something of mine?” 

Reaver handed him the sword, then picked up his cane. He threw a glance around the now quiet factory.

“Nice work, Your Majesty. I will get someone to clean up the mess immediately.” He turned to leave, but halted. 

“Oh, and just let me know when I can return a favor.” Reaver said with a smirk in his voice, then headed towards the exit while whistling joyfully, his cane clicking on the ground.


End file.
